


An Alliance PR-stunt

by Shackett74



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alliance public relations, Gen, Humor, Middle School, PR-stunt, school children, swearing (some)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shackett74/pseuds/Shackett74
Summary: A mistake is made by the Alliance PR-Department and threatens a yearly Alliance PR-stunt, so Admiral Hackett volunteers to attend the small event on a school, rather than cancel it.Things don't go as planned, however.A mostly sweet and merry story, however fused with a moment of seriousness and pain, as life not necessarily is fair even to our young.
Kudos: 5





	An Alliance PR-stunt

**Author's Note:**

> Lol. Fun story to write, especially how he tries to orient himself in this completely new situation with the military and exploratory vocabulary he's used to. =)  
> The idea just popped up in my head one day, clear as....sunshine? And then it was simply to let go of my other writing-project, and write this instead.

Pure luck saved the highest ranking Alliance brass and their staff from an embarrassing disaster. That, and an attentive member of the Admiralty Staff, vigilant enough to notice how a new, zealous star at the PR-department had discovered an unusual gap in one of the Admiral’s schedules.

No sooner than done before the Admiral was assigned to the small but yearly PR stunt "Surprise VIP visitor", on one of Arcturus school's.  
The catch was _who_ had been assigned.  
Namely Rear Admiral Boris Michailovich.

The few who got wind of this among the staff at Arcturus HQ sighed with immense relief at the avoided misadventure.  
Even Admiral Hackett.  
While Michailovich was a skilled commander and a mean son of a gun on the battlefield, he was as mean and grumpy outside of it. Not much charm or social skill to talk about there, hence Hackett never let his Fifth Fleet officer attend any welfare or PR-stunts.

The Rear Admiral in a class with younger teens was to ask for utter disaster, period.

But, since it might be contra-productive to cancel the event altogether, Hackett volunteered instead. After all, the school was located in the vicinity of the HQ and a hour long visit, break, from tedious desk work the same afternoon, would be a fair deal.

  
¤¤¤  
In hindsight, Hackett missed one important detail, too. It wasn't a class of fifteen-year-old students. Not even eleven or twelve years old - which kind of constituted the limit for when he assumed there was _anything_ meaningful left for him to communicate about.   
  
And now he found himself endure the firm scrutiny of about two squads of children around seven or eight years old. Impassive faces and a long, heavy silence rivaled even that of any doubtful turian.  
  
While some studied his uniform meticulously from head to toe, others peeped at him and threw sideways looks. But all their tiny faces were serious, poker-faced and unblinking. Impressive, he thought and squinted back at them, assessing the situation.  
  
Thank the gods we didn't send Boris here at least, Hackett concluded in earnest, as relieved as he felt lost in this new and uncharted territory.  
_Not sure I'm doing much better though._  
  
It began the moment the classroom door closed behind their young teacher, Ms. Wang, who strolled out of the crowded classroom after a few minutes. She would only fetch a paper she said and ‘would be be back in a moment.’  
Right. But since he could hardly protest, the only decent thing was to try find a tactical opening.  
And hope he could avoid any mines.

Half sitting, half leaning at one side of the anonymous, metal classroom-desk, he slowly removed his cap and placed it on the desk beside him. Wearing it probably made him appear intimidating anyway.  
With a new look around the classroom and its lemon-colored walls that were littered with images of Earth flags, colony symbols, and star systems, he thought he might be able to use _that_ somehow.  
  
"So children, how much do you know about space?" Pleased, he assumed it a fair opening move and waited for some hullabaloo to erupt with a patience honed through decades.  
But nothing.  
First after ten long seconds a perhaps seven-year-old girl with a hazelnut brown bobcat, swallowed hard and peered intently up and down his head and face.  
  
"Why do you look so old?" She finally blurted out, apparently more shy of him than concerned with if her question was too blunt. Or the fact it had nothing to do with space.  
Speechless and deadpan alike Hackett's gray eyebrows shot up to his hairline, he hadn't seen that _one_ coming. But at least he got them talking.

Time to choose tactics carefully, he thought.   
  
"You mean I look old because of this?" he inquired in a heedful, hopefully soft tone and pointed at his gray hair and goatee. The girl nodded tentatively.  
  
They were tense, he realized then. As if anticipating something, although he couldn't quite wrap his head around what. Perhaps that Ms. Wang would return.  
  
"It's because I met a scary space monster once and got _so_ afraid it turned my hair gray - just like this," he mustered all the Admiral's gravity onto his features and rapidly snapped with his fingers in the air before them.  
They all jumped a feet, gasped or cried out with eyes large as saucers. _Aha, now I have you_.  
Hiding the smile lurking on his lips and tugging the corners of his mouth upward, Hackett continued and slumped intentionally. "No, it was a joke. The truth is that my hair began turn gray when I was still quite young. It is said I got it from my father."  
  
Fifteen erect backs relaxed considerably and a few even giggled, feeling sheepish. One boy, among the oldest, blonde and pale peered at him with a sad glimmer in his eyes.  
Before Hackett could decide whether to ask or not, another kid blurted out, incredulous.

"But don't you _know_ your daddy?..."

Well, he recognized that incredulous tone from adults alright.  
  
"Oh I know who he was. But sadly he died before I was old enough to get to know him."

Again their postures slumped or faces betrayed their reactions. It was truly fascinating to observe these immediate, straightforward reactions as the children pondered and merged every new piece of information into their still limited worldview.

It was charming even, he realized surprised.  
  
"Mine died too", murmured the sad looking, blonde boy suddenly and threw a hesitant glance at Hackett's alert face.

A pang of empathy erupted in Hackett's chest and he nodded gravely.

"I'm sorry to hear, son. More than you know." What else could he say?

He knew _all_ about having only one parent and suddenly loose her when still a child. But he lacked all experience on how to deal with children their age - well, of any age to be honest.  
So he knew nothing more than that a child should have the undivided attention of preferably two parents. A chain of thought flashed. That this was precisely why _he_ had been careful and cautious when it came to these things his entire life.  
For if he fathered a child he wanted to be there for it, but he knew his priorities and had chosen a military life and career willingly.

In the end his earnest sympathy was all Hackett could give the boy. Nevertheless, he regretted with all of his heart that life should be that unfair to the smallest among them. Those who needed safety and support from loving parents the most.

The boy gracefully nodded at Hackett with a composure far beyond his years, and a silent "me too" formed on his small lips, and the shared empathy eased the previous tension in the classroom even more. Barely had Hackett finished his line of thought before the next straightforward question hit head-on.  
  
"But why do you have a _scar_ on your face?" The question came from a blue-eyed, fair-skinned girl, perhaps seven, with soft long curls falling down to her tiny shoulders. Several other among the kids nodded in emphatic agreement.  
  
_Of course._ He sighed.  
  
"That, is a secret I can only reveal to other Admirals. So you will have to wait a while for the answer, I'm afraid."  
  
The girl's expression turned into something determined, but while he swallowed the amused chuckle on his tongue, a monumental collective disappointment suddenly hit the room like a detonating bomb in the void of space. Several of the youngest sighed in heartfelt regret, but no one dared to pursue the question.  
  
Sudden mirth filled him when he put his hands together in his lap and took them all in.  
“I think you’re almost as demanding as the Parliament at our budget negotiations.”

“What’s a bugget?” murmured the youngest lass closest to him, to a boy next to her.  
  
"But, I can tell you this,” Time to change the strategy... “I command the galaxy's most powerful ship - and she is new and the largest dreadnought."

Sharp intakes of impressed breaths and awed exclamations echoed through the classroom. Then another round of questions was blurted out from the older ones.  
  
"Wooow, it's a _dreadnought?"_

"Does it have _many_ guns?"

"Have you been in battle with it?"

 _But what's a_ bugget _, James?!_  
  
"And, I can tell you something about her not many know..." he waited a moment before adding in a voice he dropped with every word, "if you'd like to know?.."  
Excited, everyone leaned forward and two of the youngest jumped impatiently up and down while crying out.  
"Tell us, Tell us."  
  
"She has the most powerful gun in the galaxy."

Perhaps he stretched the truth just an inch there. But considering her total weaponry and the newly installed Thanix, it was true enough. And perhaps it was justified with a white lie to soften up these kids.  
At least he hoped so.

Awed commotion erupted among them, mouths hung open, a few cheered, the older more composed among the classmates let out impressed gasps while yet a few simply stared each other.  
  
_That's the spirit_ , Hackett thought amused, crossed the arms over his chest and shifted position, eyes raking over his young crowd.  
A warm smile played at the corners of his mouth.

The more they showed him of themselves the more he appreciated their immediate, frank reactions and lack of any pretenses.  
They could probably be a handful for their teacher though.  
  
One girl in the back of the group didn't join in with her classmates appreciation, however. With full brown hair braided around her head in intricate patterns, it reminded Hackett of Admiral Lindholm's blonde ones. The proud posture too.

Ines would have charmed and swept this bunch off their feet in mere seconds with her extrovert, warm charm, he thought and met the challenging, witty green eyes of the girl, patiently.  
  
" _Everybody_ knows the turians have the biggest guns in the galaxy!" She stated knowingly with clear and well-articulated voice over the buzz from her younger classmates.  
  
This time he just couldn’t help the whole-heartened laughter - with a composed boldness like that the lass reminded even more of Ines.  
  
"Of course!.." he smiled at her. "But you know what, that's only because we _want_ them to think so..." and winked at them.  
  
And this time it was on the other hand the complete truth.  
  
¤¤¤  
Class teacher Amanda Wang hid behind the classroom door and peered inside its window at the scene playing out before her.

The distinguished, composed man who entered the classroom fifteen minutes earlier now sat smiling and chuckling softly and untroubled with eyes twinkling of amusement at the children’s many questions.  
It was as if ten years had disappeared from the Fleet Admiral’s shoulders, and she realized their VIP-guest probably wasn't more than fifty or so.

More important was that her wild gamble to leave them alone for a short while, paid off in the end. That he had won the kids over.

It was rude of her to leave the Fleet Admiral, but Amanda’s hunch had been correct.

Perhaps most satisfying of all was that her oldest student, the solemn and grieving nine-year-old, Tobias, now sat listening to the Admiral with eager admiration shining in his eyes.  
For a short while he was blessed with a tranquil haven from the sorrow after his dead father. A grief that too soon would return.

Sorrow was merciless that way, Amanda thought ruefully.  
  
From inside the room the Fleet Admiral's deep voice pulled her back to reality.

"Hold your horses! One at a time or you'll drown me!" Amanda heard him laugh quietly when she opened the door and entered. The merry Admiral stood with hands lifted before him to keep all the machine-gun sputtering questions at bay best he could.  
  
¤¤¤  
Twenty minutes and many additional questions later, Hackett said his goodbyes and was heading back to his office, lighthearted and surprisingly invigorated. Back at his office he made some coffee and leaned against a bookshelf to sip on it. Shaking his head at the last hour events Hackett relished the lingering warmth on his tongue as much as the warm hope in his chest.

Those kids represented that hope he realized, and bore the seeds of future greatness for humanity. And who knew, all of a sudden the years would have flown by and one of them might become an officer in the Navy, dressed in blue and gold too.


End file.
